


You Are What You Eat

by saezutte



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Cannibalism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 05:03:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2096775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saezutte/pseuds/saezutte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsukiyama offers himself for Kaneki to eat and Kaneki, surprisingly, accepts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are What You Eat

**Author's Note:**

> posted this on the kink meme originally; now my need for validation has outweighed my hesitation about being a known writer of fucked up cannibalism porn. Just kidding! I’m totally embracing being weirdly into cannibalism now, thanks, Tokyo Ghoul, Ishida Sui, and Tsukiyama-san.
> 
> Set during the six-month time skip.

“You’re never going to get what you want if you keep eating these second-rate ghouls.” 

Kaneki looked over at Tsukiyama, suddenly, eyes widening slightly before he controlled his reaction. _Did he really think I didn’t know?_ Tsukiyama thought. _Silly boy._

“What is it that I want, Tsukiyama-san?” 

“You know. You need to try meat a little bit more grade A if you want the _kakuja_.” 

Kaneki was surprised, obviously, but again hid it quickly and laughed. “Well, you are the gourmet. What do you recommend I eat instead?” 

“Me. I haven’t tasted many ghouls, but I know that I myself am quite delectable.” It wasn’t that Tsukiyama approved, exactly, of Kaneki’s quest to become an insane armored beast via cannibalism (as fascinating as he found the process) but if he had to watch it anyway, he might as well have some fun. He didn’t expect Kaneki to respond with anything besides faint annoyance and an extra fury next time they sparred. 

“All right. Roll up your sleeve.” 

Tsukiyama blanched. “What?” 

“I said, roll up your sleeve.” 

“I wasn’t— I didn’t mean—“ Tsukiyama realized too late that Kaneki was approaching him with a dangerous aura of intent. He wanted to turn this around — make it clear it was a joke or, better yet, make this about eating Kaneki instead — but the decisiveness in Kaneki’s eyes as he walked towards him seemed to steal all of Tsukiyama’s words, all four languages of them, away. 

“You said you wanted to be my sword, Tsukiyama-san. If I eat you, we can make that literal.” Kaneki pushed him lightly down onto the couch. Tsukiyama looked up at Kaneki and had a sudden image of Kaneki fighting, going into battle, as a kakuja that was partly made out of Tsukiyama’s flesh and blood. Kaneki-kun would think of him every time he fought, that kakuja would wrap around him just like Tsukiyama’s mouth would when he finally got to bite into him—oh, the thought was purely _délicieux_. 

“Well? I’m not doing this if you’re not willing.” Kaneki’s question was genuine, but Tsukiyama could see in the way he looked at him that he knew Tsukiyama was going to let him— let him eat him. Kaneki just wanted verbal confirmation, Tsukiyama realized, that he wanted to be eaten. 

_Well, well, maybe if I show him how it’s done, he’ll offer himself up to me willingly later_ , Tsukiyama thought and started unbuttoning his sleeve. 

“Yes, Kaneki-kun, I would be honored to share my deliciousness with you,” he proclaimed, rolling up his sleeve and offering the arm outstretched. 

Kaneki raised an eyebrow, like he didn’t expect Tsukiyama to admit to it so easily; the joke was on him, Tsukiyama thought, if he was going to underestimate Tsukiyama’s notorious shamelessness. But Kaneki took in stride and moved towards the couch, straddling Tsukiyama’s legs. 

He held up Tsukiyama’s bared arm examining it. His fingers moved over Tsukiyama’s skin lightly, the dark nails pressing in seemingly at random, testing the flesh. Tsukiyama knew his arms were beautiful, but Kaneki’s close attention was exhilarating — exhilarating in a way that went to whole new levels as Kaneki tentatively reached out his tongue to lick Tsukiyama’s index finger. 

Tsukiyama could feel himself growing hard at Kaneki’s careful licks — up one finger, then the tongue pressed his thumb, tasting, testing. It was obscenely erotic and unconscionably frustrating. He moaned to try to encourage Kaneki on to more determined levels of devouring. 

“I think these would make good tempura,” Kaneki teased at his fingers. “And this—“ Kaneki mouthed at his wrist “— would be great grilled with a blood wine marinade.” 

“Are you going to cook me first, Kaneki-kun?” 

“That’s what I want to know. I know you like to watch cooking shows — are you taking notes for how you’d like to cook me?” That mouth had moved up Tsukiyama’s arm and was alternating licking and sucking at his skin, but no release, no sharp pain of a bite, seemed to be forthcoming. 

“I’m not going to have you cooked, _mio caro_. Your flesh is too rare and delicate for that. I want to eat you alive, while you’re eating someone else—” 

Kaneki had reached his shoulder with the light licks, but at that, he moaned. It was good to know that Kaneki wasn’t completely unaffected, despite his cool demeanor, and Tsukiyama wanted to memorize what had set it off. “Would you eat me while I’m eating you?” Kaneki asked, sounding half-shocked at the words coming out of his own mouth. 

Tsukiyama didn’t trust himself to speak. He didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself from begging: _Yes, give me that, yes, I want to devour you as you devour me like an ouroboros swallowing its own tail._ In the silence, Kaneki seemed to collect himself. 

“I’m sorry, Tsukiyama-san. I feel like I put you in a bad position here. You’re not used to food that bites back.” Kaneki said it so sweetly that Tsukiyama could almost imagine it was the younger Kaneki, when his hair was still dark, back before Yamori had done to him whatever he had and even before Tsukiyama himself had tried to serve him for dinner, an innocently apologetic Kaneki who trusted him. But this Kaneki wasn’t like that anymore; this Kaneki knew exactly what to say to push Tsukiyama and he wasn’t afraid to use it. 

Tsukiyama felt his blood boil and his eyes go dark. “You haven’t done any biting yet, I’ve noticed. Kaneki-kun, are you going to spend your whole life being such a tease?” 

Kaneki smiled. “I guess you’re right,” he said, and took Tsukiyama’s hand in his. With the swift motion of an apex predator, he bit down on the flesh at the base of Tsukiyama’s palm. Pain and ecstasy sprung through Tsukiyama’s nervous system. The blood trickling down his palm seemed to make every feeling in his arm more intense. And Kaneki— Kaneki was chewing, slowly and methodically, as though trying to decide if he liked the taste of Tsukiyama’s meat. Tsukiyama moaned — this was unbearable, this was amazing—

“Are you getting off on this, Tsukiyama-san?” Kaneki sounded like he was mildly offended, but Tsukiyama’s blood trickling out of his mouth washed away any high ground he might have. 

“Don’t tell me you’re not, I can feel it.” He pulled Kaneki against him with the arm that wasn’t being served as a main dish so that Kaneki’s erection was rubbing against his stomach. 

“I’m just—“ Kaneki’s breath hitched but otherwise he spoke with a smooth confidence that Tsukiyama almost felt proud of. “I’m just trying to enjoy my dinner. I didn’t realize you were going to make this a weird sex thing.” Kaneki didn’t give Tsukiyama a chance to respond before taking a large bite out of Tsukiyama’s forearm. The blood splattered out, coating Kaneki’s face as he chewed his new portion. His eyes — the kakugan now dark — never left Tsukiyama’s. 

Tsukiyama remembered vividly the night in the church when he had thought he was going to eat Kaneki. When he had ended up eating himself instead, just to stay alive. Covering in Kaneki’s blood, his own flesh had taken on a magnificence that was indescribable, a taste that would never leave him, perhaps only surpassable by the taste of Kaneki alone — Tsukiyama the Gourmet, flavored with a sauce of Kaneki-kun. But now he was almost worried, almost self-conscious — not a feeling Tsukiyama was used to or enjoyed — as Kaneki sat in judgment on the taste of Tsukiyama. Kaneki swallowed. 

“One more bite, I think,” Kaneki said, “Are you ready?” 

Tsukiyama nodded, not sure if Kaneki wanting another bite meant he tasted good or bad, but Kaneki didn’t give him time to consider it before dropping his teeth to his upper arm. This time, he sucked and gnawed for a moment before ripping the meat away clean. Tsukiyama watched a scrap of his deltoid muscle, blood seeping out, disappear into Kaneki’s mouth like a cut of a fine rare steak. The arm, when he tried to move it, lay there limply and the pain was overwhelming. 

Tsukiyama was at his limit, light-headed and the part of him that thought begging for this was too undignified was dizzy and starving, desperate for food to start regenerating the muscles and skin he’d lost, especially with the scent of Kaneki so warm and so close. “Can I— Kaneki-kun, can I just have one bite of— of you?” 

Kaneki looked at him, a little sad, a little considering. “No. But you’re allowed to come, if you want to.” He unbuttoned and reached into Tsukiyama’s pants to touch him. There was blood everywhere, including on Kaneki’s hands, making his strokes smooth and slick. With the other hand, he pulled Tsukiyama’s neck in closer, pressed his mouth to it in a light kiss, and then opened his lips and bit into the tender flesh. That was all Tsukiyama needed — the sudden, bright pain of Kaneki’s teeth, Kaneki’s hand moving on him, Kaneki covered in his blood, smelling like dinner and like Tsukiyama, how he’d said one more bite but then taken two —and he was coming. He turned his head towards Kaneki to get the full scent of his hair and everything seemed to sharpen and fade into that bright white. 

Kaneki pulled back suddenly, as though only now aware of what he had done, of how far this had gone. “Are you—are you okay? I—“ 

“You’re still hard, Kaneki-kun. Let me help.” Tsukiyama’s dominant arm, full of wounds and bleeding profusely on the couch, was useless, but he grabbed Kaneki’s pants with his left hand and fumbled them open, stroking him with long, hard motions. The awkwardness of his non-dominant hand just seemed to make it better, a reminder of what had happened to his other hand, and Tsukiyama was overcome again by the sight of Kaneki covered in his blood, moaning in response to his ministrations. He wanted to lean down and taste him, bring him off in his mouth and then bite— 

But Kaneki leaned forward and pressed his open mouth against Tsukiyama’s. Tsukiyama could taste himself there, mixed in among the breathiness of Kaneki's sighs. It could barely be called a kiss, really, but it was something Tsukiyama had never dared dream of: Kaneki at his mercy, Kaneki hungry for him. 

As he came, Kaneki bit his own lip and Tsukiyama tasted, slightly, a delicious hint of Kaneki’s blood that seemed like enough on its own to bring his useless arm back to life. _Someday_ , Tsukiyama thought, as Kaneki rode out his orgasm on his lap, _I’ll get to taste as much of your blood as I want and you’ll enjoy it. I’ll make it so good for you, my dear Kaneki-kun._

Kaneki leaned against him for a moment, recovering. Tsukiyama found himself stroking his back lightly, but Kaneki pulled away again before he could start to enjoy it. 

“I’m going to get cleaned up.” He looked down at Tsukiyama, sheepishly. “Do you want— I’ll bring you something to eat real quick.” 

“Grazie, that would be very gentlemanly of you.” 

Kaneki rolled his eyes and stepped to the door. 

“How was it?” Tsukiyama couldn’t help himself — he had to ask. 

Kaneki paused in the doorway and looked back. Tsukiyama could see he was slightly flushed and obviously covered in blood, which was nothing compared to how wrecked he probably looked himself, but Tsukiyama was pleased. “Thank you for the meal, Tsukiyama-san,” Kaneki said. “And you need to have a new couch delivered by tomorrow morning.”

Tsukiyama sighed happily, unsure how to take Kaneki’s parting words, but delighted anew at the direction the hunt was taking.


End file.
